Selfish Heart
by Sleepwalker48
Summary: Cupid is a different foe than any of the ones that the Guardians have dealt with so far. Pitch simply wanted to eliminate the Guardians and take over the world, but Cupid plays with your emotions. Now, with Valentine's Day less than a week away and Cupid's antics coming to an all-time high, Jack must find a way to put a stop to the mischievous angel before it's much too late.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Posting this on a whim. I think I have this plot figured out. I'm sort of procrastinating on posting for my other stories too, so we'll see how that goes. Hopefully this will get my creative juices flowing.**

* * *

 ** _Selfish Heart: Chapter 1_**

* * *

"Easter is in exactly 57 days and you're bugging me about _Cupid?"_

Jack gave a very long, very exasperated sigh. After the events of dealing with Pitch last year (Bunny called it "The Nightmare War", but Jack thought he was just being dramatic), he and the disgruntled kangaroo were getting along better than before. They hadn't gotten to the point of mutual cuddliness though, where Jack could get away with scratching behind his ears and get away with it without getting clubbed with a boomerang that hurt more than it looked, but it was nice to have somewhere to hang every once and a while. Jack was constantly being reminded that he _was_ sort of homeless; and having a roommate wasn't all that bad, not if you avoided all of the furniture the other one sat in, to better avoid all of the shedding. But now North was getting on Jack to do something about a rogue character who had been getting a little out of hand lately, and seeing as this was Jack's very first mission, he decided that he could get all of the help he could get.

If he could _get_ any, that is.

"Th-that's more than two months away!" Jack said, picking up his pace as he followed the overgrown house pet around the table where he kept his best maps and markers. "And Valentine's Day is _next week,_ Bunny! We need to confront this guy before he messes up another Valentine's day!"

"That's _less_ than two months away, Frost," Bunny grumbled, giving him a look. "Or did you forget your months?"

Jack paused while he counted the days of the months in his head. "Wait, February _isn't_ the month with 31 days in it?"

"No."

"What about March? Wait, Easter is on March this year, right?"

"Despite your laudatory memory skills, _Frost,_ I don't have time for this," Bunny grumbled. Jack glowered, watching him move into the next room. It wasn't _his_ fault that he didn't stare at a calendar everyday, glaring at each month every morning when he woke up. _He_ didn't work like that. All he ever needed to do each day was create as much fun and mischief as he could until Bunny kicked him out of the picture come springtime. "Valentine's day is for –for teens! For adults! _Not_ children!"

"But I _need_ to do this," Jack pressed on, following Bunny's hoppy little lead.

His Burrow was getting humid with heat; it had something to do with the hundreds of stoves that were constantly boiling and experimenting with eggs in the next room, Jack thought. He really wished the failed magic trick would open a door every once and a while; his house was starting to smell like rotten egg salad sandwiches. Bunny had turned into another hole-room with various books on shelves and a desk with a small little painter's easel on top of it. There was a little palette of paints next to the artist's corner; Jack followed the Guardian in, and closed the door behind him. It was only here, Jack thought, that they could hope to escape the stench of egg.

"Don't blame me for this, Frost." Bunny had plopped in front of the easel now, dipping a nearby paint brush in a waiting bowl of watercolor. "North assigned you the task of breaking Cupid's heartstrings a long time ago—no pun intended. If you forgot, then that's not my problem."

Jack simpered. "I just . . . lost track of time, is all," Jack told him.

"Lost track of time, for the past three months?"

Jack muttered an affirmation, trying to think of another way to get the rabbit to see sense. He really _had_ lost track of time for the past two months—and then, after that, he'd procrastinated on confronting the winged guy until he could procrastinate no longer. Now North was bearing down on him more than ever, and every so often Jack would wake up from nightmares of the Russian glaring at him, frowning and eyes filled with unfulfilled expectation. He didn't want to disappoint the guy. He had to find a way to get a hold of Cupid, and fast.

"Come _on . . ."_ Jack tried again. "I'll . . . I'll stop the snow for an extra week this spring! I'll make sure you have a nice and grassy Easter this time of year!"

"No," Bunny grumbled. "I don't dobribing."

"Yeah, but you do gamble," Jack informed him. "Remember when you and North made that bet in the 1700s-!"

Bunny rounded on him in horror. "Wh-who told you about that?" He shook his head rapidly, his big bunny ears flapping all over. It was kinda cute, actually-especially once you got past the stark eyes brows and deep Australian accent. "Nevermind about that! I'm still not helping you, Jack! This is your mess, and you can get your own butt out of it!"

"But North, he's counting on me to handle this, before it gets too out of hand, and . . . " Jack stopped talking. It was obvious that he wasn't listening, and Jack knew he needed to say something else to regain his attention again. Bunnymund had put to canvas a burst of inspiration, and had painted a wonderful egg in designs of blues, golds, and greens. Jack supposed it was nice, but lately he'd found that he'd had enough of eggs for an entire _lifetime._ But . . . "Hey, that's pretty nice. I've been thinking about starting to get into a hobby sometime."

"Really? You want me to show you how to paint?" Bunnymund's eyes looked at him with feigned surprise. " Because, you know, it's actually a great stress reliever, for when _annoying teenagers keep breathing down my neck and ruining my plans for Easter!"_

"Geez, geez, okay! I get the hint, alright!" Jack said, putting up his hands in defense. "Though would it be such a stretch to pretend like I was actually taking an interest in your adorably quaint therapeutic hobby?

Bunny started rubbing at his temples with two fingers. He grumbled before saying, "What could you possibly need _help_ with, anyway? All you need to do is find the guy and talk to him anyway, right?"

"Yeah . . . it would help some if I knew where the guy lived."

Aster facepalmed.

"Does that mean you know where he lives?" Jack said with burgeoning excitement.

Bunnymund frowned. "I don't, but Tooth does."

"Tooth? Why would she know?"

"Because, Cupid is her brother."

Frost's hopes sang to an unimaginable low. He looked at Aster, who had turned in his stool to look at him inquisitively, then at the painting itself, and then at what looked like a children's book. Its cover was filled with pictures of pastel colors and all types of furry animals. _Does Aster actually learn from this childish crap?_ Jack wondered inanely.

"Jack,"Aster said for what may have been the upteenth time. "Jack, do you hear me?"

"Pretending not to."

"You're going to have to confront the lady sometime. You _did_ break her heart."

"I don't—doesn't Sandy know?" Jack asked. He still was staring at the brightly colored children's book on Bunny's desk, but he could feel him staring at him, probably with that oh-so-righteous, disapproving gaze of his. If he confronted her, it would be awkward and uncomfortable in the extreme, but Jack imagined that this would only be the beginning of such situations in the next few days. "He knows a lot of stuff. He should know something like that, right?"

"I doubt it. Cupid is a self-concerned hermit who barely gets out himself," Aster said casually, moving his hand in very broad, sweeping strokes. He continued, "The only person he's revealed himself in the past years is his sister, and that I know from experience."

"And from experience, did you happen to find out where Cupid lived?"

"No," Aster grunted, reaching down to switch paintbrushes. "It wasn't the best time to ask."

"Well, it's not going to be the best time for me to ask if I go to see her, either," Jack looked at Bunny reluctantly, his glaring bunny eyes on him. "What?"

"Were you really going to ignore her for the rest of the year?" Aster questioned. "She's got tabs on you."

"I know, I know—"

"And next week is Valentine's Day."

Jack's shoulders slumped a little. "Yeah. You think Guardians themselves wouldn't _celebrate_ their own holidays, or even Holidays at all."

"Guardians celebrate their own holidays all the time."

"Yeah, I know . . . I just . . . I don't think I . . . ever really liked her as much as she thought I did." Jack crossed his arms, feeling heavier than when he had entered Bunny's Burrow just minutes earlier. "She came onto me more than I did her . . . and seeing her around that crazy schedule of hers . . . it was driving me crazy. I mean, was I supposed to be okay with her bringing her work to our dates? She was always babbling about teeth, going a million miles an hour, and I just. . . couldn't keep up with her. I just . . . I just hope I made her realize that we were two completely different people before breaking it off with her."

Bunny nodded sagely, though he still looked pretty incriminating with his arms crossed like that. Jack couldn't believe that he'd just spilled the details on why he thought his brief time with Tooth Fairy hadn't worked out for him—he supposed it was just something that he'd been thinking about, off and on again, for longer than he'd like to admit.

(Maybe he _did_ still have feelings for her, after all.)

"Go talk to her," Bunny told him. "And figure out if you still have feelings for the lady. She deserves that much."

Jack nodded, standing up as he went. "Yeah . . . I think I will." But he wasn't buying her any lame-ass Valentine's card. "And Aster?"

Bunny's eyes narrowed.

"The paint on your picture is dripping. It doesn't look like it's going to last . . ."

Aster turned to the canvas with growing fury. "FROST! I swear, you little son of a snowflake—"

Jack ran out of the room, a grin lighting up his face, more ready than Bunny to be out of that Warren. But he didn't think where he was headed wasn't much better.

Awkwardness ahead.

* * *

Jack got to Tooth's Sanctuary via one of North's Portal Snowglobes. He'd grabbed a few during his last visit to the North Pole, and he didn't think that he'd mind all THAT much that he'd taken one of them.

In any case, North knew him pretty well. North had been mentoring Jack a lot in the past few months, and though Jack often pretended like his sessions were boring him to sleep, without his help, he'd probably be lost as a Guardian. It was harder than it looked, and a lot more work than just hanging out with kids all day long. To say the least, there was a lot that North let Jack get away with, a relationship that mostly reminded Jack of one that would manifest itself between a father and son. But, seeing as North looked nothing like Jack, and the fact that North was more overbearing than he would've preferred, Jack liked to think of their relationship more as one that developed like one between a boy and his very fond, very wizened and very Russian, uncle.

Jack hoped that he could mend the relationship that he'd broken between he and Tooth. He shared a mutual liking and respect towards all of his Guardian friends, and, above all of that, he didn't want to suffer through another uncomfortable Christmas dinner like the one that they'd suffered through the year before.

So. He was going to make the best of this situation as possible.

But right when he stepped on the other side of Tooth's golden gates atop of her very impressive mountain, he knew that nothing between them would be the same.

Just _being_ there seemed to reek of broken promises and situations that had spiraled out of his control. This was odd in itself, since he was quite fond of things that were beyond his control, and liked the challenge of fixing them on habit of improvisation. But with Tooth . . . that had never worked out. She was all "schedules and deadlines" and there was a part of him that just _couldn't_ will himself to change to fit her needs. Being with her just gave him the feeling of restlessness, of a situation that he couldn't control, of a chaos and a feeling of . . . of helplessness.

Jack sighed.

A cluster of Baby Teeth plagued him, crowding around him as the great gates of Tooth's palace began to open. They whizzed about him furiously, right in his face, the angriest Jack had ever seen them.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Jack said, waving around his arms in defense. "What did I ever do to you guys?"

That wasn't quite the right question, though, since Jack knew exactly why they were so agitated around him. As it always was, Toothiana's Baby Teeth reacted much the same way she did. They were an extension of her, in more ways than simple ability; thinking and sometimes feeling the things that she did when the occasion arose. Jack remembered how, in the beginning, they swooned and sighed when Tooth and Jack began to date. Now they reacted as she would if she was there; heartbroken and bitter, the Baby Teeth lashed out with uncontrolled animosity towards him.

"Okay, this isn't fixing anything!" Jack said as his movements became more and more restricted. Before the Baby Teeth could react, he was up in the air. A swift jerk with his crook was really all it took for the winter winds to come to his aid; soon he was looking down at the swarm of Teeth who had decided to attack first and ask questions later. He wished he could've figured out another way to deal with them, but he knew that they weren't his main problem. To calm them down he would need to go to the source.

"Tooth!" Jack bellowed, soaring over mountain peaks whose bases where obscured by huge fluffy clouds. He scoured the area, but the actual building where Tooth dwelt in was nowhere to be found. "Tooth, where are you?"

"What could you possibly want, Jack?" Her Baby Teeth probably got a hold of her quicker than they could keep up with him. Toothiana was there in an instant, her multicolored wings lifting her up into the air with him. Her pixie-like face was hard, her lips pressed into a frown, but Jack knew better than to judge her solely on these facial features. Her bright primrose eyes were bright with hurt, longing to hear some sort of explanation.

Jack never wanted any of this. As a matter of fact, he was pretty averse to any conversation that didn't include playful bantering or laughter. He didn't do serious talks.

"Tooth—hey."

Toothiana crossed her arms in front of her. "I don't know why my Baby Teeth opened the gates for you if all you came up here to say was _hi."_

Jack grimaced. Tooth was difficult to talk to when she was mad. "Tooth, I don't know what else to tell you. I'm sorry about what happened between us. If you want, I could say that it wasn't you, but me, since that usually helps—"

"That _never_ helps things, Jack!" Tooth exclaimed. "Because when a guy says that, what they're actually saying is that it's the girl with the issue!"

"Oh. Really?" Jack said, utterly clueless. "I didn't mean it like that." Jack struggled to find some more words to say to calm her down. He began to think furiously. He knew everything he wanted to say to her could probably he handled better if they weren't wasting their energy flying up in the air—Jack opted to find a more comfortable place to talk, one preferably on the ground.

Toothiana obliged, telling him that they could talk in the chamber where she kept all of her teeth. She flew away before Jack could say his opinion about where they should talk, and he rushed to keep up with her.

* * *

Toothiana stared at Jack, and Jack stared at anyplace in the room that wasn't dominated by her.

They were standing up, so it was hard. Upon entering, Jack had settled himself in a large comfy chair that dominated one corner of the room, but stood up when he realized that Tooth wasn't going to sit down herself.

It was obviously up to him to launch the first words of conversation. He knew all of the things that he _couldn't_ say—the fact that he absolutely couldn't stand being around her, that she drove him up the wall, that she should forget what happened between them so that she could tell him where the heck her brother lived so the winged pest wouldn't cause another February fiasco like the one last year.

But because Jack was bad at explaining himself, and also a complete ditz in relationships, he suddenly found himself at a loss for words, and decided to stuck it with the last one.

Tooth slapped him.

Jack had never been slapped before. But in his defense, that's actually exactly why he came to see her.

It hurt a lot more than the T.V. shows let on.

"Um, _ow."_

"I let you come to me, after _months_ of avoiding me, and the first thing you can think of doing is insulting my brother?"

Jack patted at his cheek gingerly. "Uh….yeah?"

Tooth gave him a deprecating look, before crossing her arms and floating away.

"W-wait!" Jack said before she could leave the room. "That came out wrong, okay? I didn't mean what I said. Your brother isn't really some pest."

"Is that right?" Tooth spat, still not facing him. "Then what is he?"

Jack gave a heavy sigh. "I don't know! He never shows his face. At least, to _us._ And when he does, he's so freaking _slippery._ He won't let anyone try and pin him down."

"Huh. That's kind of funny that you'd make that observation," Tooth said. "You and he actually sound a lot alike."

Jack pressed his hands through his hair in frustration. He just couldn't _win!_

"Look, Tooth, I didn't mean to insult him like that. I just need to know where he is."

"Why, so you can stop him?" Toothiana whisked around then, her eyes glowing like twin amethysts. "Put an end to him? Take him down after what happened last February?"

Jack hesitated.

"Well, I won't let you do it," Toothiana said pointedly. Her finger wavered in his face, shaking dictatorially. "He's still my brother."

"Tooth," Jack said, his voice level. He had to make her see his cause. "You can't really think that, can you?"

The Tooth Fairy frowned. Jack wondered, in her silence, what she could be thinking about. Was she recalling the events of last year, when Cupid had taken upon himself to nearly stir on a third world war? Or was she remembering different things, moments when they had been younger? Jack didn't know much about Toothiana's past, but he sort of wondered if Cupid's distance was a thing that had come about because of his relationship with Tooth. Then Jack frowned. But that didn't really make any sense, did it? Toothiana- she was the most heartfelt Guardian out there!

Ahem. That is, _before_ Jack broke her heart . . .

But suddenly Jack wasn't so sure. I mean, this wasn't just her brother-this was her _twin._ Who _knows_ if their distance was a result of something that Tooth did? He and her may be more alike than Jack may realize . . .

Tooth gathered herself. She spoke calmly and diplomatically, a mask of her usual self. "What happened last year was bad, yes. But it doesn't mean that he's a threat. He's stayed out of the way for a good 200 years. He may not do anything this year."

Jack looked to the ceiling. "Tooth, I don't know. He's only been getting worse. Last year- someone got so obsessed over not being able to date that prime minster's daughter that they nearly _killed_ him over it. He drives people into insanity!"

"I know what he does, Jack," Toothiana insisted. "But I can't let you hurt him!"

Jack couldn't make himself push his point further. Toothiana looked at him with eyes filled with desperation. He looked down. Of _course_ she'd want to protect her brother from any harm. Despite whatever disagreements they'd come to, they still _looked_ _after_ each other.

But he couldn't let something as big as what had happened last year happen again.

"Okay," he said. "I'm not going to try and take him down, really. I just need to find him, and talk to him. But I can't do that without your help."

Toothiana pursed her lips, her gaze weighty. "You have to promise me," she said.

Jack nodded at once. "Of course. Yes. I promise. I'm just going to talk to him, see if I can reason with him."

Toothiana didn't respond. He saw the mistrust that lingered in her eyes, left over no doubt from that last time she had put her trust in him.

Just as suddenly, though, she broke contact. "Okay," she said, partly to herself. "Follow me."

She was a lot more confrontational and assertive now than what Jack had experienced when they had been dating. He followed her into the room adjacent, the hallway considerably more dark and more small than the room that they had left. Jack figured that every room in Tooth's house was filled with light from the open-air Sanctuary, but then he saw he was wrong. Eventually Tooth turned into a room whose bright yellow-glow was completely non-existent; curtain covering what would've the huge arch window that would've overlooked the entire room, and filled it with the light that was missing from it. Jack surveyed the rest of the place as Tooth headed towards one of the looming wooden shelves standing at the wall opposite. The room was messier than what Jack was used to seeing any of Tooth's apartments being; golden artifacts and ancient relics strewed the floor without rhyme or reason to its placement. Jack crossed the room to peer inside the drawer Tooth had just opened; inside, lay many more odds and ends of instruments that Jack couldn't place a name to. She rummaged through the drawer, which was deep and filled to the brim; Jack turned around to gaze upon the rest of the room's contents for an instant, his eyes landing on the room's only table. There were things on there that Jack could actually identify; a balance, broken and its left side tilting on one side wrongly; and a statue, whose golden base held a marble figure with wings. Its miniature body was arched in a graceful, yet menacing stance; in its hands he held a bow, and his body was taunt, his every muscle set to release the arrow to release.

Jack cocked his head to one side. The likeness of the angel was too detailed to not be a replica of someone who was actually real. It was close enough to Jack that he could admire it from the distance that he stood at. He took a stab and guessed that this must be what Cupid looked like.

But maybe the word admire wasn't the right one to describe what Jack felt as he looked at the statue. Standing behind Tooth, he gazed at it with a sort of unsettling awe. Its eyes were set and determined; its eyebrows were arched about its face in an expression that was both superior and mischievous. A glimmer of a smirk framed his face, hidden behind the weapon he held at the ready. And his bow was pointed directly at Jack's chest.

"Here," Tooth said, procuring from the chest's contents a small round thing. She handed it to Jack, its shiny surface bigger than the palm of her hand. Jack took it, and their hands brushed slightly. But Jack didn't feel the electric shock of love that he had felt when Tooth had first pressed her hand in his with love, which confused him. If Jack wasn't destined to do this with Tooth, and if he wasn't destined to love her again, then why was Cupid directing his arrow at him?

Jack pressed on the knob at the top of the metal object. It opened, revealing itself to be a compass of some kind. It spun in a circle, never settling in one single direction.

"Why is it spinning like this?" Jack asked.

"It's because I live at the edge of the world," Tooth informed him. "In the West."

Jack frowned. "Okay, I know I may not be the smartest person in the world, but I'm _pretty_ sure that the world is _round,_ not flat. There's-there's no such thing as the edge of the _world_!"

"Don't try and explain it; it doesn't make sense to me, either. All I know is where I live. North lives in the Northern most part of the world, and Bunny lives in the Eastern most part."

"And what about Sandy?"

"I'm not so sure about Sandy," she said, her lips pulled down in a gesture of uncertainty. "I feel like he lives everywhere. Or somewhere in France." Tooth shook her head. "Nevermind about that. Take this. It'll direct you where you need to go. Once you depart from my Sanctuary, then the compass will point you due North. Don't go that way. Go South. That's where Cupid lives. But if you find yourself in Antarctica, you've gone too far."

"Um . . . okay?"

"When the compass starts going crazy, you'll know where Cupid's labyrinth is. Don't try and figure out where his Citadel is. You'll never find it. You'll need to go through his Labyrinth first."

"Sounds good." Jack looked down at his former girlfriend. Tooth was always flying, her wings always making the constant sound of humming birds made, but she didn't fly now. Her eyebrows were pulled down in concern, and she held herself in a somewhat disconcerted fashion.

"Hey, Tooth," Jack said gently—because he _could_ be gentle, if he needed to—"I'll get him to see reason, alright?"

Tooth looked up at him doubtfully. "There's a reason that Cupid isn't a Guardian like us."

"That shouldn't mean anything," Jack said in what he thought would be a helpful manner. "I mean, I was alive for almost 300 years before I became one."

"This is different, though." Tooth looked at him. "You didn't become a Guardian right away because you were selfish, misunderstood, and separated from the world."

"There's nothing wrong with being independent," Jack said, his voice guarded. "I didn't think anybody wanted me, and so I figured I didn't need them, either."

"You'll find that you and Cupid have similar personality traits, then. The only thing is, Cupid isn't misunderstood. He's a damned soul, and perverts the power that he was given."

Jack was taken aback. "He's really like that, then? You're sure?"

Tooth narrowed her eyes at him. "Of course I'm sure. We're twins. I knew the Man of the Moon was wrong to choose my brother from the start. Nobody believed me though, and he never listened." Her eyebrows quirked up then, a new thought coming to mind. "That information should help some, right? Maybe you'll connect with him as much as you connected with Pitch."

"Tooth—as terrible as your opinion of me right now may be—I'm not a horrible person. I defeated Pitch, not to give myself satisfaction, but to help all of you guys." Jack looked down. "I still care for you, Tooth. Just . . . not in that way."

The look she gave him was a sour one. With it, Jack realized just how much he changed her with one, rash decision made in one day of his life. It was the type of decision, he realized, that messed you up forever, causing not just you harm-but everyone around you harm as well.

"Love isn't rational," she told him. "It defies logic, and happens without our wanting it. When you confront my brother, he won't want to listen to you. He doesn't listen to anyone. He will think he is better than you, because he's powerful, more powerful than anybody. Don't forget that, Jack."

After that, an uncomfortable sort of silence descended upon them both. Jack didn't like uncomfortable silences. He had said what he'd come to say, and more than that, besides. Tooth had helped him, even though she'd had every reason not to.

Jack decided to go off on that. "Listen, Tooth—" Jack said, and then, realizing that sounded too formal, he tried again, "Thanks for—" But he was cut off by Tooth dismissing herself from the conversation first. She turned around and flew out the room, gossamer wings lifting her and taking her far; far from him.

* * *

 **A/N: Even though this fiction takes place near/during Valentine's day, there is** _ **no**_ **way I'll finishing it until then. I expect this fic to be . . . maybe about seven or eight chapters?**

 **Anyway. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Selfish Heart: Chapter 2**_

* * *

 _Is the air I breathe visible to humans?_ Jack wondered inanely. Standing motionless in the winter afternoon, the air that blew out from Jack's nostrils came out in short, even puffs. Bewildered, he focused on his own breathing, too concerned with distracting himself to be able to come to terms with the reality before him.

"Jack. Jack! Why aren't you looking at me?"

Before him stood Jaime. Almost five years since Jack first came to know him, the young man now stood almost as tall as Jack himself. Where the Winter Spirit stood thin as a reed, however, Jamie had filled out quite a bit, extra muscle tone no doubt an after product of Jaime's newfound love for hockey. He certainly wasn't as broad-shouldered as some of the other team members, but what he lacked in general girth he made up for with his skill and agility.

And Jamie was _good._ Ever since starting last year after moving into another new city with his family, he was turning heads. It helped that he wasn't a complete jock, able to slip around the other players on the ice with grace and ease. It wasn't until a few minutes ago that Jack found out that he had caught the attention of not only the girls in the school, but also the boys. And one in particular . . .

"Jack!" By now, Jamie was getting annoyed with the Guardian's lack of response. But underneath that semblance of irritation was a hint of fear, too. Because . . .

"Ty Kim is your boyfriend?"

Jamie blushed, but it wasn't like he wasn't expecting it. He looked down at his feet, like he was twelve years old all over again, and not sixteen. "Uh-yeah. You didn't guess before?"

Jack looked around them. They often talked like this, behind some bleachers, or near the maintenance trucks there at Jamie's school, so that there was less of a chance of someone walking past and find Jaime talking to thin air. At this age, Jack Frost was sure that only a few people from Jaime's school would be able to see him for who he really was, so he usually tried to keep his visits with Jaime under wraps.

Except when he was with Ty. Though they'd only met five months ago, Jamie was quickly able to convince Ty of Jack's existence. It filled Jack with gratitude at the almost effortless way that Jamie was able to do this, proud of his relationship with the young man and impressed with the relationship that he and Ty shared as well. It had been clear to see that Ty was as sincere and as reliable as Jamie's first friends were.

 _But that's because they're . . ._

"I didn't think you'd be so shocked like this."

"I'm not shocked!" Jack defended. "I'm just . . . confused."

Jamie snorted. "What, you think he comes to every one of my games just because we're just "friends?"

Jack flushed angrily. "I thought you were his ride home!"

Jamie shook his head in disbelief. "God, Jack, I thought _you_ of all people would be able to understand."

"It's not that I don't understand!" Jack said, feeling vastly uncomfortable.

"Then what's the problem?"

Jack crossed his arms in front of him. 'I don't know. Isn't that sort of . . .wrong?"

Jamie's face fell. " _What?"_

Jack gesticulated, trying to make his words more understandable. "Not wrong, but . . ." Jamie continued to stare in disbelief. "Maybe just a little . . . dirty?" Jack raised his voice in defense. "Not that _I_ think you're dirty, just . . . have you done anything . . . with him?"

The young man looked down, his face flushed. "Does it matter if I have?" he said feebly.

"No, no!" Jack said, realizing his mistake. "It's not that I think _you're_ -!"

"Then why would you say that?" Jamie demanded. "You're not supposed to say something like that!"

" _You're_ not supposed to be like this!" Jack said, his voice rising with his. "I'm just trying to understand why!"

"Why? There's no reason why!" Jamie crossed his arms, hugging himself tight. "I'm-I'm gay, Jack!"

Jack frowned deeply. "What?"

Jamie looked at him, his face twisted into something ugly and angry. "What?"

"You're . . . what?"

Jamie stared at him for a few beats, comprehension beginning to dawn on his face. "Jack, you-you don't know what that . . ." Suddenly Jamie broke into laughter. "Well, _duh._ You don't interact with people!"

"I do too," Jack said, looking a little put over.

"Yeah, well, this is _2017,_ okay?" Jamie said, crossing his arms and looking him over. He didn't look quite so dejected than as he had just moments before; in fact, Jamie looked rather _pleased_ with himself. "People - there're other people out there _like_ me, Jack. Gay. Meaning-like other guys like me. In an sexual way." Jack's lips twisted downwards in something akin to almost disgust. The reaction took him aback, actually, and he looked at Jack in confusion. "You really-?"

Jack shook his head. "That's not how it works."

Jamie laced his fingers through his hair. "Jack, what do you _mean_ 'that's not how it works? This is who I am!"

"No, it's not!" Jack said, stepping towards him. Jamie took a step back, wary, and maybe just a little scared of this side of his friend. "This isn't who you _are,_ Jamie! _No one_ is supposed to be like this! You and him-together-it's not supposed to happen! It's _not natural,_ it's _wrong!_ It's _dirty_ and _disgusting_ and makes no sense that you-!"

"Jamie?" The two of them looked up. Ty stood there, looking concerned. "I heard you yelling. What's going on?"

Jack couldn't even look at him. The Korean-American kid was only slightly less compact than Jamie, slim-waisted and reserved in movement. Ty looked from Jamie to Jack now, dark brows furrowing in bewilderment. "I don't . . ."

"Don't worry about it," Jamie replied guardedly. "Let's just go."

"Jamie-wait." Jack moved towards him before he could go join his teammates. "It's not that I don't like you-"

"But it is, Jack!" Jamie's eyes were bright, but from anger or from hurt, Jack couldn't decipher. "This is who I am!"

Jack stared back at the boy, unable to respond. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. With one final glare Jamie stalked away from the winter spirit, dragging an apologetic looking Ty along with him. Jack stared after them, all of a sudden feeling more alone than ever.

* * *

He was in Norway. It was the wintry throes that had brought him here, leading him to the spot that he went to the most when all he wanted to do was think.

There was a town here, one that looked like it was in the middle of nowhere. It looked as if it had just weathered through a snowstorm.

Jack descended quickly. The town was quiet, preparing itself for the night and the eventual snowstorm that may come from the decreasing temperatures.

 _Not like it's not already cold out here,_ thought Jack, perching himself on a stolid, bare-branched tree along the outskirts of town. _All of the people here look like Stay Puft marshmallows with how many layers they're sporting._

The tree he crouched in allowed him a pretty generous view of the town without being noticed by any of its younger occupants. He distracted himself, watching as the people of the town went about their daily business. An older couple walking side by side to a small convenience store; a woman with two young girls in tow, her arms filled with groceries. Jack squinted, a slight smile on his face.

One of the girls looked like Jamie's sister, Sofie.

At that thought of Jamie's sister Jack suddenly became troubled.

He looked away. Out of his sweatshirt pocket he pulled out the compass that Tooth had given him, and turned it idly in his fingertips. He was way off course, way too far up north than what the compass wanted him to go. He knew he was procrastinating. But why?

Jack groaned, looking up into the sky. _When did things get so messed up?_ He thought. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were; for Tooth to be crushing on him, for her Baby Teeth to be fawning over him. He wanted that same camaraderie that he felt being among the Guardians for the first time, right after Sandy came back to life, and they were fighting Pitch. They had come together so well . . .

. . . you know, after they had thought that Jack was working with Pitch.

 _But it wasn't_ really _like that,_ Jack said to himself. But the whole thing seemed so unconvincing, even to himself. And what could he say? He'd let his own selfish desires get in the way of what was most important. His friends, the Guardians. The children. And _Jamie . . ._

 _Jamie. . ._ Jack thought in frustration. He thought he knew the boy, but it seemed like he had grown up much sooner than he'd expected. And . . . had changed.

He didn't quite know what to make of Jamie's . . . reveal. It made him angry, for one.

 _I thought you were good,_ Jack though, looking into the sky in bewilderment. _You were the first one to believe in me. And now-now I -_

"Jack?"

Jack Frost shot around, leaping out of his tree. That _voice-_ it sounded so familiar-

His eyes darted around him, looking for the source. His eyes fell to the shadows, to the depths of the forest that he found himself so near. He blinked a couple of times, and then he knew who it was before he even drew into the light.

The Boogeyman.

Jack was on his guard before he could show his face, letting himself drift slowly to the ground until his feet fell light on the snowy ground. He brought up his crook in defense, preparing for an attack.

"Why are you here?" he shouted. Pitch Black drew out of the darkness in that way that he always did, all majestic and self composed and _gliding,_ like he wasn't even walking on the ground. And maybe he wasn't, Jack thought; maybe, if Jack's ability was to fly, then, like, maybe Pitch's ability was to _hover majestically?_ His figure was imposing like it always was, his hands were clasped behind his back, and his expression was more than a little condescending-like always.

Yet he also seemed . . . different. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or were Pitch's eyes _bloodshot?_ He walked towards Jack in a way that was slower than what he last remembered, like the Boogeyman was tired, or . . . sick. His hands behind his back, Pitch looked composed and restrained, all of his former pride gone from his body.

At Jack's reply, Pitch cocked an eyebrow up at him. "Oh, please, Jack. Why am _I_ here?"He laughed, and his laugh was as self-possessed as Jack remembered it. "Why, I'm meant to be here."

Jack raised an eyebrow at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Pitch rolled his eyes, so patently done with Jack's shit that it looked like it physically pained him to do it. "God, did you turn _stupid_ while I was gone? The night—" he gave a superfluous motion with his arms, as if he were Adam and God had just presented him with all of the animals of the earth, creating them to answer to Man's beck and call—"belongs to me. It is my domain."

Jack looked at him suspiciously. As the spirit drew closer, his strained eyes got more and more plain to see. He gestured briefly towards his figure. "What happened to you?" he said.

Pitch gave a groan, looking up to the sky as if searching for divine interference. "Cupid, of course. What else?"

Jack certainly was not expecting that answer. "Huh?"

Pitch paced a little to Jack's left, staring to the ground. "You're in trouble with him true, aren't you? The little waif, I would crush him if I could-"

"You two-you two know each other?" Pitch looked up at him, startled out of his own thoughts.

Jack didn't know what to make of him. What was he _doing?_ The last time he had seen Pitch was almost five years ago, clawing and screaming and being dragged into that sewage pipe by all of his fears. He and the Guardians had been at _war_ with him. And now they were _talking?_

"Wait, what are we doing?" Jack asked, staring at the ground. Because the more he looked at Pitch, the more he felt _bad_ for him. "I can't be talking to you-and you can't be out here, talking to me!"

Pitch looked at him solemnly. "Why not?"

Jack turned to him, ready to unleash on him an appropriate answer. _Because we're enemies, because we hate each other, because you're for everything I'm against!_ But no words came out. All he could see was Pitch, standing there, looking _lost_ even, trying to understand, and trying to see if Jack could too-

Jack's lips twitched into a frown. "How do you know Cupid?"

Pitch seethed. "The boy Cupid and I . . . have _history._ Years and years and years of it. To begin to explain any of it would probably take several _millennia_." He smirked at him. "And I know about what you need to do before Valentine's Day, too. He and you . . . have unfinished _business_ with each other, don't you? North wants you to take him down."

"How did you find out about that?"

"I'm in more places than you realize, _Frost."_ Jack cocked an eyebrow at him. Many people called him by his last name when they were angry, or when he was being particularly uncooperative. "You may have convinced the world that I do not exist, but I am still _here."_

Jack bristled. "The Guardians and I-we defeated you. You disappeared. You're supposed to be in hiding."

Pitch cocked an eyebrow at him. "Have you ever believed that, in the years that I'd been absent, that I'd been completely defeated? Did you ever truly believe that I was wholly-completely- _gone?"_

Jack stumbled back, a sick feeling rising in his stomach. "What are you trying to get at," he said dully. His fingers clenched. "You followed me here . . . didn't you?"

Pitch laughed again, his voice echoing in the space surrounding them. "Oh, how'd you guess?"

Jack waved his arms around him. "Um, I don't know if you've noticed, Pitch, but this is my domain too! Snowy, cold, in the middle of nowhere? Besides, I come here a lot!"

Pitch gave a chuckle, coming to circle around him some more. Jack didn't like it. "Hm. I suppose you do." Jack's grip tightened on his crook. Weak though Pitch looked, he wasn't above taking him down if he continued to annoy him. "I understand that you're looking for Cupid. He's in his Citadel, but you have to go through his Labyrinth first. Yes?"

Jack thought back to Tooth's instructions to him. "Yeah, I guess."

Pitch rounded back to him, his eyes like shards of gold. "I could help you get there."

Jack shuddered, putting his hands out in front of him. "Ew, no!"

Pitch looked at him, his brows furrowed. "'Ew'? I'm not deserving of an 'ew'."

Jack gave a loud sigh. "Pitch, we fought each other. This is ridiculous!"

Pitch cocked his head to the side contemplatively. "Yes, I suppose it is."

"And besides," continued Jack, "Why would I take you with me? I have-" He paused, about to mention Tooth's compass, then stopping himself. What if this was all a ploy to get the thing? Pitch may want it, for all he knew. "I mean, I know how to get there already."

Pitch snorted. "Do you really think he's going to just let you waltz in and let you drag him out of there?" Pitch chuckled a little. "He's the most powerful spirit that Manny's ever created. And don't get me _started_ on that Labyrinth. It's virtually impossible to get through it alone. You're going to need help."

"Then I'll get Sandy to help me," Jack said begrudgingly. He crossed his arms in front of him. "Besides, why do you want to help me?" He eyed him up and down. "Though I suppose you'd be pretty bored, huh? No more children to scare . . ."

Pitch glared at him. "There are plenty of children out there left to scare," he said ruthlessly. Jack only smiled. Pitch turned away from him, fuming. "Though my abilities aren't as potent as they used to be . . ." He sighed. "You could still use my help. I know the place. The other Guardians do not have that advantage."

Jack studied him. There was something deeper there, a hidden reason as to why the Boogeyman wanted to tag along with him. He wasn't going to pull it out of him anytime soon, though. And frankly, he didn't want to know.

"Nah," Jack said, turning away from him, swinging his crook back to rest in between his shoulders.

"What?" Pitch shouted after him. "But-why not?"

"I don't need your help, that's why," Jack yelled back, smirking. He could imagine Pitch pouting-not a bad mental image to have really.

Pitch wasn't done, however. "Fine," he said, sounding quite confident. "I'll just follow you there."

"What?" Now it was Jack's turn to sound shocked. He turned to him. "But-I don't want you here!"

"I. Don't. Care," Pitch practically sing-songed, moseying alongside Jack as he tried to outpace him. _He's gliding so freaking fast!_ Jack thought anxiously. _I can't shake him!_ "I need you to get to Cupid's Citadel. And you need me to bypass the Labyrinth." His smile grew wider. "I win."

"You will never win!" Jack flustered, trying to walk faster, but Pitch kept matching his pace and it was _so aggravating._ Jack pouted, much to the Bogeyman's amusement, and his shoulders drooped. "Well, I'm not going to enjoy any of this," Jack said, huffing out dramatically. He sounded as much as the teenager he had been when he'd died, and sounded like the teenager he'd _always_ be.

Pitch only laughed. Jack slumped even more. "I _mean_ it."

But that didn't mean that Pitch wasn't.

* * *

 **A/N: Manny= Man in the Moon**

 **This chapter was a surprise! I didn't expect it to turn out so lighthearted in the end. Especially after the Jamie thing.**

 **Hope y'all enjoyed! Sorry about the late update. And for the shorter chapter. But I know exactly how I want to start the next one now, something I was having trouble with when starting this chapter. But since I'm on Spring Break, I should have more time/motivation to update sooner. Maybe next week?**

 **Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Selfish Heart: Chapter 3**_

* * *

Suddenly Jack had an idea.

Without another thought, Jack summoned the largest arctic wind he could muster, and promptly _got himself the hell out of there._

Pitch's expression was priceless. Jack couldn't believe how _ridiculous_ the darkness spirit look. He let his laughter ring in the chilly evening air, feeling like a kid all over again.

"So long, Pitch!" Jack said, giving him a last wave farewell. Pitch shouted something after him, looking by now like some kind of cartoon character, shaking his fists up at him. _Oh,_ Jack though, hardly able to believe himself, _why didn't I think of this earlier?_

Despite Pitch being a pain in his frigid ass, he decided to take Pitch's word for it and decide to ask for help. Whether or not Pitch had been bluffing in order to have Jack take him along for the ride, he figured that he'd better ask Sandy for help, in case Cupid's Labyrinth ended up being more of a two person job. So, disobeying the compass once again, he took himself to where Sandy lived . . . you know, wherever that was supposed to be.

Jack tried to think about what Tooth had said about where the Sandman lived. "In the clouds" meant he had to go up, but it wasn't precise enough to head there without any more specifics to go off on. The child-like energy he had gained from ditching Pitch began to drain out of him, a deeper concern for his mission coming to settle on his brain. _Okay, now back to it,_ Jack thought, mentally trying to divest himself of the distractions of yesterday. He wracked his brain of anything that could help him locate Sandy, but he was fast running a blank. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't recall Sandy opening his house to the Guardians at all in the past five years since Jack had become a Guardian. At the time, Jack didn't think this was all that unusual, especially since Guardians had a habit of keeping to themselves, but now he berated himself for not even having an inkling of an idea of where to begin to look for the shortest Guardian spirit in their already elusive enough company.

 _Then again, Tooth didn't have a clue as to where he might be, either._ This thought didn't help with Jack's search, however, and he was rapidly running out of ideas. Jack willed his winds to propel him through the air even faster, gaining attitude enough to take to the clouds yet staying low enough to where he'd be able to see Sandy's iconic golden whips flowing through the night sky.

It was quiet. Still in the north, he went from small town to small town and let the silence consume him and lay waste to any troubling thoughts that continued to plague him. Still jumping from cloud mass to cloud mass, its condensation ran its way through his face and feet and hands and neck, so much so that Jack felt less like a being of flesh and blood and more like a spirit of air and water.

Suddenly, Jack felt heavy. He felt less like a spirit of water and air, and more like a ton of bricks. He felt like when he looked down, he could see the bright, yellow light that Sandy's yarn of dreams emanated when they were in use, but when he blinked, he found he was only looking at city street lights. He felt like he was drifting off to sleep.

 _Sleep . . ._

One of the weirdest things that Jack noticed since becoming an immortal being, was that the fact that he rarely needed to sleep. Being a perpetual teenager had its benefits, certainly, and one of those benefits came with not needing to lay down and rest after a long day. His body didn't need to grow, because his body was stuck in time. Not one bone in his body had grown an inch since Manny raised him from the dead; his hair and his nails the exact same length they had been since he had fallen into that frozen ice lake all those years ago.

Guardians didn't _need_ to sleep, but they certainly _could._ It took a lot of physical exertion for Jack to get the least bit tired, to the point where even flying for several hours hardly fazed him. Saying that to say, Jack found out that he rather _liked_ sleeping, since he had a lot more control over what he could and couldn't dream ever since he stopped being human. Before he had regained his memories, he could dream about the favorite parts of his day; seeing a dog leap through his first snow, or a child's first snowball fight. Now, with his memories back, he'd dream about the girl his sister had been and the other pleasant details of his life before he'd fallen in the frozen lake.

But never, in all his years of being a Guardian, had Jack been _compelled_ to sleep.

Jack's eyes began to droop. His thoughts became hazy, unfocused. He wondered, briefly, why he should take Pitch's advice and find someone to help him to navigate Cupid's Labyrinth. Wasn't _he_ the greatest Guardian who had ever lived, who had almost single handedly come up with a way to defeat Pitch and his Nightmares? Cupid might be powerful, but _he_ was the force to be reckoned with in this world.

Then, he resolutely fell asleep.

* * *

It was dark, and then it was light. Jack startled up, unaware that he was still in the air, somewhere above the south of Russia, falling through the air with his eyes still closed, oblivious to all. All he knew was the world that he had been transported to in the dreamscape of his mind, and the world was warm and bright and filled with soft, pink clouds.

Someone was laughing.

Jack roused himself up from where he lay. The ground was soft like cotton, warm like a pillow and comfortable enough to sleep on. The clouds around him had a hazy, dreary quality to them, as if Jack was suddenly losing his vision. He blinked once, twice, suddenly doubting if he was dreaming. He briefly considered going back to lie on the fluffy clouds again to sleep, and to dream of post-dawn icicles shining in the light of the new day. But then he rejected the idea. Jack wanted to know where he was, and he was certain that sleeping wasn't going to help him find that out.

Besides, the person laughing was _not_ getting any quieter.

"Who's there?" Jack demanded, looking around in all directions. The clouds, pink and golden yellow as they were, surrounded him like hills, and they sort of blocked his view from seeing anything else.

The person, whoever it was, snorted, Jack couldn't help but feel as though _he_ might be the person who was being laughed at. Bothered enough by that thought, Jack pushed himself through one cloudy hill to another, determined to find the source of the laughter.

The more and more Jack pushed himself, however, the warmer the air around him seemed to turn. For the first time in a while, Jack, a spirit of winter, felt himself actually _sweating._

And that _laugh._ It was never ending. It was hysterical at this point, seeming to grown louder and more obnoxious the more Jack pushed himself to find its source. He could imagine him on the ground, holding his stomach and wiping away tears, wheezing and cackling like he was the funniest thing in the world.

And it was getting on Jack's nerves.

"Who _are_ you?" Jack demanded, yelling up to the pink, dawn-dewey skies. "Where am I, what is this place?" He stopped and looked around again, trying to locate the laughter's source, but coming up short. The laughter was coming from _everywhere._

"And why am I _here?!"_

"You're here because I want you to be," the voice replied. It was young and masculine and had a promiscuous quality to it. "Oh boy _,_ this is going to be _fun_."

Jack grit his teeth. "I am _not_ here for your entertainment," he growled. "Show yourself, or else I'll-"

"You'll what?" the voice replied. "You don't have your staff, _Jack."_

The voice-whoever it belonged to -sounded like he was enjoying this. Jack rather felt like he was a mouse and the voice was a cat, toying him, playing him. He looked around him as the meaning of his words settled on him. He didn't have his crook, and now he was powerless.

"Show yourself!" Jack demanded, fear locking up his insides. His heart sped up, stuttered and beat again, quicker and quicker as the moments went on. He didn't have his crook. He didn't know where he was. And to Jack, the worst thing about all of this was-

He was alone.

"Stop treating this like a game," Jack said, but his voice was quiet now. He was folding in on himself, losing his nerve. He felt like a kid again, vulnerable and small. "This isn't funny . . . whoever you are."

"Who are you to make that call?" The voice rallied. "For me, this is _hilarious._ But I can see your point. This could be a _lot_ more fun if you were in on the joke."

And then, just a few feet in front of Jack, materialized a form. A barely corporeal shape at first, it began to coalesce, manifesting itself into a peculiarly small shape. It turned out to be the shape of a man, but a rather small man, one with petite shoulders and wiry arms and legs. His hair was dark red and straight and smooth, and his eyes were striking pinpricks of light green. His face was sharp and his lips mischievous and his skin was pale and white. Jack took this in and felt his rage bubble up even more, angry that he'd been tricked and kidnapped and who knew what else by this _kid_ who barely came up to his shoulder. He wasn't even fazed by the fact that the young man had wings. No; all Jack was thinking about was punching him in the face.

"Who are you?" Jack demanded.

The boy's lips quirked upwards. "What, you don't recognize me? Didn't you just see my sister yesterday?"

Realization settled on Jack like a stone. That face . . . "You're Cupid," he said, his voice a bit dull, "aren't you?"

Cupid spread his arms full and wide. "The one and only!" He paced up to Jack, his face impossibly animated, and placed his hands on his shoulders. "And _boy,_ are you a treat."

Jack shuddered. He looked like he wanted to eat him whole. The boy couldn't have been more than twenty years old, but he talked like a villain, like the old woman in the fairy tales who invited children into her house so that she could shove them in the oven and eat them for dinner. "Don't touch me."

Cupid's eyes lit up in surprise. "Oh, no. You don't like me."

"Why would I?" Jack took a step back, breaking himself free of the boy's grasp. "You bring me here-you take my _staff-_ and you laugh at me for ten minutes straight before even revealing yourself!" He gestured all around them. "What even _is_ this place?"

"Oh, you're still on Earth," Cupid replied. "This is all in your head, actually. Technically, we're at my sister's place, up in the clouds, but I modified the area a little bit. The clouds, for example, hold your weight. That's how we're not falling at the moment. It's a little more pink here than it is at Tooth's place too, but only because pink's my favorite color."

"I don't care what your favorite co-" He paused. "Wait. I'm . . . not actually here?"

Cupid's smile grew wide and wolfish. "Nah. Right now you're falling in mid-air. You fell asleep. I stole your consciousness. Now you're here."

Jack stumbled backwards again, fear bubbling up to his throat now. "Wh-what-?"

Cupid waved a passive hand at him. "Oh, don't worry. You'll be saved soon enough. I don't know if you knew it, but you passed out a city away from where Sandy was. Dumb luck, right? I wouldn't have let you die, anyway. Nah; that would've ruined the fun."

Slowly, Jack's mind began to connect the dots. He wasn't actually here; he was somewhere else. And here, he was practically defenseless; here at Cupid's mercy. He could manipulate the air; no doubt he could manipulate other ways Jack could feel too. He wouldn't just be able to feel heat; he would be able to feel pain, too.

He had to get out of here.

Jack's fingers clenched. "Why have you brought me here?"

Cupid clasped his hands behind his back. "From what I understand, you're coming to get me," he said. "I don't particularly want that."

"That's too bad," Jack said, sneering. "You've caused too much damage down on Earth. You have to be stopped."

"Yeah, well. Doing damage is what I do best. So what if it's only just now I'm starting to make more of a scene? I've never liked staying in the shadows anyway."

"Why are you doing this?" Jack couldn't figure out how to wake up from a dream that he wasn't even in control of, so he figured he might as well try and figure out Cupid's motives in the meantime. "And why are you doing this now?"

Cupid shrugged, his wings fluttering a little bit as he did so. He didn't look Jack in the eye anymore, instead choosing to look somewhere to the distance to Jack's right. "My sister stole something from me, and she lost a bet. She still hasn't paid me back," he said, his voice light, but it harbored a sharper edge to it too. "And so now I have to make her pay."

Jack's hopes sank. When he had last seen Tooth, why hadn't she told him this? If the recent chaos down on Earth was actually Tooth's fault, then Jack didn't think he should be the one picking up the pieces. Tooth should be the one putting an end to Cupid's antics, not him!

"Look, I don't want to get in the middle of a sibling rivalry," Jack tried. "So whatever's going on between you and Tooth needs to stay that way. No need to drive the world mad in the process."

Cupid laughed. "Oh, _no!_ That wouldn't be fun at all!"

Cupid stepped a little closer to the winter spirit, his face a picture of pure childish delight. "You Guardians, you've always had more power than me. I didn't know quite _how_ much until Pitch decided to give you a dose of your own medicine. Man, he almost got you, didn't he? I didn't know how easy it'd be taking the five of you down until he tried it. And he got close, too! And you have _no_ idea how enjoyable it was seeing the Guardians brought down to its knees during that last battle. Man, if only he had succeeded-!

"But now, it's my turn. You Guardians have been putting me down for _years,_ you know that? Just because Valentine's Day was never a holiday for _children._ Not really. 'You don't protect children, you feed them fantasies. _Illusions._ Your holiday is a fake holiday, as sweet and as sickly as the candy you put in those heart-shaped boxes of yours.' You know who said that to me? _Bunnymund._ Man, that guy is such a hypocrite . . ."

"I still don't know what this has to do with me," Jack said staunchly.

"Oh, it has _everything_ to do with you," muttered Cupid, his eyes a flinty green. "You know, I was the one who warned Pitch that you'd be a loose thread. He would've taken down the Guardians on his own, had it not been for _you._ And now I've got the perfect way to tear the Guardians apart," Cupid said. "All I have to do is make them learn to hate _you."_

Cupid reached out, a hand coming to rest on Jack's chin. Actually _rest_ wasn't the right word; Cupid's grip was more of a vise. "I'm actually surprised I didn't notice it earlier," Cupid said lowly. "Even during the Nightmare War, when Pitch Black took more of an interest in you. His _empathy._ He's soft towards you, you know."

Jack started. "What?"

"Oh, yes." Cupid smiled again. "The two of you, you'd make the perfect pair. He recognizes that you're the strongest out of all of them. He wants that power." Cupid's eyebrows did a weird wiggly thing. "That, and more."

Jack felt sick again. "Y-you . . ."

"What, you don't believe me?" His smile was simpering and bordering on malicious. "Jack, you have to understand, this is the modern age. Really, I'm surprised you didn't notice it earlier, Pitch's obsession with you. You two are fairly equal in power. You fought, you grew _closer._ He began to see how you and he were the same. It goes beyond power and respect, though with such similar powers, you two could rule the world."

Jack felt sick again. Disgusted. He shoved Cupid back again, waving an accusatory finger at his face. "Shut up. Y-You're lying. You're making things up."

"What? Me? I haven't told a lie since you came here, Jack." Cupid shrugged. "So what if you're anti-queer after what Jamie told you."

Some deep part of him grew cold. "Who told you about that?"

"Didn't I mention? I've been tracking you down North gave you that mission." Cupid's smile disappeared. "I _don't_ plan on being stopped."

"I didn't-you need to explain," Jack said, his mind a flurry. First Jamie, now _this?_ "How did you track me? And why would you say that Pitch has _feelings_ for me-?" Jack's fingers clenched. "You're not making any sense-"

"Ah, I don't have to, Jack." He looked up suddenly to the sky, as if something beyond Jack's consciousness was giving him stir. Jack suddenly felt the dream losing focus, like the way he had felt when he'd first come there. The clouds, the sky, even Cupid in front of him was becoming more and more intangible as time went on. And for the first time since entering Cupid's dream world, he could feel a world beyond this one, and he thought this might be him waking him up.

"Trust me, I'm not one of those villains who spill all their secrets for the hero to exploit in the end. No," Cupid said, turning from Jack, his hands still clasped behind him. "I'm much smarter than that."

* * *

 **A/N: And here we have Cupid. This OC is actually spawned from another story of mine, though his character is more morally ambiguous than the Cupid in this one.**


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